My kid is my guru. Sometimes I think she was sent to take care of me. A friend said maybe she is one of those indigo children you hear about. I don’t know about that. She’s mine and I would love her even if she weren’t.

She and I had a conversation about love awhile back. I don’t know if I wrote about it. I told some friends about it.

She was getting stressed because it was the day we swap Mom for Dad. And I told her what she was feeling was fear. She was afraid because she loves me and it’s normal to be afraid something will happen to someone you love. It’s normal. It’s OK. But it’s fear, not love.

The look on her face was like “holy shit” when I said what she was feeling was fear. She recognized it immediately. I think the look on my face was like “holy shit” because it is so simple and true, which struck me only as I said it and saw her, a four-year old, recognize it in herself.

So she says she’ll miss me. And I say think about the love. And she says the missing is part of the love. And I say, yeah, but not the most important part. And then she’s cool.

So, this conversation is weeks or months ago? And tonight, I visit her at her Dad’s. They walk me down to the parking garage and as I go my way and she goes hers she keeps yelling out “I love you” and I reply the same. Then she shouts out “I can hear you, but I can’t see you. That’s part of love.”

All these things that motivate us to do what we do: how much of it is because we want (more) love? I’ve been freaking out about messages coming/going from my core, so that was about the best tip I could have gotten today. You don’t have to see what’s real to have it.

If I didn’t have her in my life, I don’t know that I could face how very big I am. What I struggle to learn, to forget, to remember is natural and fun. We, socially *teach* and reinforce fear in ourselves and our children. Nothing motivates me to break out of the program of my own mind like her. She radiates light.